


Maybe

by Lopithecus



Series: SuperBat Prompts [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, M/M, Smut, With no reveal, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopithecus/pseuds/Lopithecus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark is stuck sharing a room with Bruce on a cruise ship. However, when Bruce has an unexpected nightmare, Clark decides to get a little creative with the night to tire him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yamada_CZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamada_CZ/gifts).



> This is dedicated to [Yamada](http://yamad-a.tumblr.com/). You are such a kind and wonderful person. <3
> 
>  **To everyone:** This is based off of those comic panels in Superman/Batman annual 2006, where our two boys met on the ship and had to share a room together. Also, Yamada is the one who gave the idea so I take no credit for that.
> 
>  **To Yamada:** I hope it’s okay that this is only in Clark’s point of view as it’s been quite a few years since I’ve written in an all knowing (omniscient) point of view or even in a multiple person point of view without chapters separating the view points out. I’m just not comfortable enough in my writing ability to try it right now and I don’t want to screw it up as it is a gift to you. :)
> 
> Now, onto the story. Please enjoy!!

Clark has to share a room with the infuriating playboy Bruce Wayne, who has been grinding on his nerves all day, all because of a _computer_ mix up. Of all the things that could happen to him during this cruise, it had to be this. Because when you are Clark Kent, reporter from the _Daily Planet_ , secretly Superman, then you can never catch a break.

Clark stares at the single queen sized bed that is definitely not big enough for two large men to sleep on — not that Clark would want to sleep in the same bed as _Bruce Wayne_ in the first place. Clearing his throat, he looks over to where Bruce has been standing, unmoving. “So… um, who is sleeping where?”

Bruce snaps out of whatever void he was tranced in and says as he walks to the bed, “I get the bed, Kent. You get the floor.”

“So you don’t even want to try and fit in the bed together?” Clark asks as he begins to unbutton his top. “And, hey wait a minute! Why do _you_ get the bed and I’m stuck with the floor?”

Bruce shoots him a sultry smile over his shoulder, pulling at his tie. “Because I’m the delicate billionaire and I need a bed.”

Clark scoffs and decides to not argue with him, finishing taking his clothes off and changing into pajamas. When he turns around, he’s not surprised to see Bruce in blue, expensive looking silky pajamas. Clark rolls his eyes and gets down onto the floor after grabbing one of the pillows off the bed. “Have a nice night on that comfy bed. I’ll just be down here on the hard floor.”

Clark doesn’t receive anything in return except for a cheerful sounding, “Goodnight.”

Then lights are turned off and the cabin is descended into silence. It doesn’t take long for Clark to fall into the abyss of dreamland after such an exhausting day of feuding with Mister Billionaire. He dreams of plains of grass and wheat in Smallville. Of flying high above them, in the clouds and the sun beating down on him. He feels energized, happy, at peace. Then suddenly he hears someone groaning in pain, in fear; the heavy breathing that accompanies panic loud in his ears.

Clark startles awake and realizes that the sound of someone in distress is coming from Bruce. Bruce is breathing heavily, the sheets rustling as he thrashes around only a tiny bit, a whine escaping the billionaire’s throat. Clark is contemplating whether or not to wake him from his nightmare when suddenly Bruce is gasping awake, scrabbling at the sheets and air as if needing something to anchor him back in reality. Clark can smell the sweat on him even from down on the floor.

Clark lies there, listening to the man as he slowly calms his breathing with deep breaths, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Bruce, once his breathing is under control, sighs and then gets up with a groan. Clark quickly shuts his eyes, pretending to sleep as Bruce walks silently past him and to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Sitting up himself, Clark wonders what kind of dream Bruce could possibly have had to warrant such a reaction out of him. Billionaires usually have nice lives don’t they? Was he dreaming about going bankrupt? But the reaction that Bruce had to the dream seems to be a little — okay a lot — on the extreme side for such a dream. Clark looks to the clock that is in the room and notices that they’ve only been asleep for an hour and half. With his own sigh, Clark lies back down and decides to get some more sleep.

Only he doesn’t go back to sleep and instead finds himself waiting there, wide awake, for Bruce to come back out of the bathroom. After a half hour passes, however, he begins to get a bit worried for the playboy. Clark sits back up and x-rays the bathroom. He sees Bruce, towel around his waist, looking at himself in the mirror. Bruce splashes some water on his face, scrubs it roughly, and then looks at himself again with furrowed brows. He looks tired, bags that Clark didn’t notice before heavy under his eyes.

Getting up, Clark makes his way to the bathroom door. With a soft knock, he calls gently, “Mister Wayne, can I come in?” When no answer comes, he decides to go in anyways.

Opening the door and stepping into the bathroom, he’s met the most intimidating glare he has ever seen. “Sure, come right on in. It’s not like you need permission or anything.”

Clark looks at him confused. This is different than how Bruce was treating him earlier; edgier, angrier. Something about his voice that demands to not be messed with. “I’m just making sure you didn’t drown in the shower or something.”

Bruce snorts and turns away. “Shut up.”

Clark chuckles and it seems to startle Bruce a little before the man hides even that behind some kind of mask. Clark hadn’t noticed the masks before but now that he’s seen Bruce when one was down and watched it be brought back up, it’s blaringly obvious. When the silence goes on long enough and it starts to get awkward, Clark clears his throat. “I’m going to go back to bed now.”

“Okay.”

Clark leaves the room and looks from the bed to where he was sleeping earlier. He then looks back to the bathroom in which Bruce hasn’t yet to leave. Despite looking exhausted, Bruce didn’t look like he was going to be going back to sleep anytime soon. Feeling a bit of sympathy for the man — wherever the hell that feeling came from, Clark doesn’t know. Not at all — he goes to look for something to do. If he can tire Bruce out a little more, maybe the man will try and get some sleep again. Or, if that doesn’t work, then Clark can at least keep him company through the night and entertain him.

He searches through the drawers and besides finding a bible, the only thing he finds are three die. Looking at them closer, Clark can’t help the blush that forms on his cheeks — more like his whole face, including his ears, and down his neck — but it’s the only source of entertainment he can find. Clark, trying to will his blush away, sits down on the edge of the bed.

Bruce steps out of the bathroom only a moment after that, still only in a towel. “I think you’re in the wrong the spot.” He points to the floor in a gesture to get Clark off the bed.

Instead, Clark holds up the dice. “I thought we could play a little game… a wager if you will.”

“You want to bet me?”

“Yes.” Clark swallows. “If I win, I get the bed and you get the floor. If you win, you get the bed and I continue to sleep on the floor.”

With one eyebrow raised, Bruce sits on the bed beside Clark. He narrows his eyes. “What are we playing?” Clark’s blush returns full force and he can’t look at Bruce as he hands the dice over. Bruce inspects them closely and then with a smirk, eyes glinting in the dark, he looks up at Clark. “Seriously?”

“It’s the only thing I could find.”

“But sex dice? You don’t have like a pack of cards or whatever in your luggage?”

“Do you?”

Bruce shrugs, handing the dice back. “No.”

“Well, believe it or not Mister Wayne, not all us _hayseeds_ carry around cards like our lives depend on playing with them.”

Clark is surprised when Bruce chuckles, the sound deep and low in his chest. Clark thinks he likes the sound of it. “Isn’t that all you Kansas folk play down there?” With another chuckle he continues before Clark can retort. “Okay, Kent, how do you suppose we do this? How is the winner determined?”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Fine, let’s just play and we’ll decide how to win as we go.”

“Okay,” Clark says quietly. “Do you want to roll first or do you want me to?”

“Your idea so you go first.”

Clark swallows hard and rolls the dice onto the bed. “Okay, um, action is bite, body part is back, and time is forty-five seconds.”

“I can read you know.” Clark’s eyes look up at him. “I’m not that dumb.”

“Sorry,” Clark says and Bruce turns around.

The first thing Clark notices are all the scars. “Have you even played this before or are Kansas boys… I suppose more specifically Smallville boys… too pure for this type of thing?” Clark doesn’t pay any attention to his question as he stares at Bruce’s scars. He hadn’t noticed them before in the bathroom and even when they were just sitting here on the bed. How did he not see them before? “Kent?”

“How…” Clark reaches out and places a gentle hand on Bruce’s back. The man flinches anyways. “How did you get these?”

“Hey,” Bruce turns around, angry glare set in place. “The die didn’t say hand.”

“Sorry.” Clark can’t look him in the eyes so that leaves him looking at Bruce’s chest where there are definitely more scars.

Bruce turns back around. “It’s none of your damn business where I got them,” he says quietly, almost under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” Clark says again as he leans forward to place his mouth on Bruce’s back. He bites him gently and Bruce flinches just the tiniest bit but enough for Clark to notice. Clark can also hear Bruce’s heart pounding in his chest at a rapid speed and his breath has accelerated slightly. Clark pulls away after nipping at him a few times, concerned. “We don’t have to do any of the ones in which you face away from me if it makes you feel… unsafe.”

“I don’t feel unsafe,” Bruce snaps, turning slightly to face him. “Hurry up, your time is almost out.”

With a silent sigh, Clark continues biting at his back lightly, trying to ignore Bruce’s fear signs. He’s probably still hyperaware from his nightmare and it only serves Clark to be more curious as to what it was about. Clark also doesn’t like the fact that Bruce lied about being uncomfortable with not being able to see Clark. When his forty-five seconds are up, he pulls back. “Your turn.”

Bruce turns back around and grabs at the dice, obviously still annoyed. “This whole thing is stupid,” he grumbles.

“We can stop.”

“I’m not going to stop and lose.”

“You won’t lose. I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s fine.”

“I said I’m not stopping,” he snaps, looking up at Clark angrily.

“Okay.”

Bruce rolls the dice and it comes up at lick feet for fifteen seconds. “Are your feet clean?”

“I haven’t taken a shower yet. Why don’t you just roll again.”

With a ferocious glare that could kill, Bruce grabs a hold of Clark’s leg roughly and pulls his foot over to his lap. Clark allows this and watches as Bruce pulls his sock off. “You sleep with socks on. Great, you’re one of those people.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with socks on.”

Clark shuts up as soon as the growl leaves Bruce’s throat. He brings Clark’s foot to his mouth and swipes his tongue up from the heel to toes. Clark tries very hard not to shiver but he can’t quite hold it back. As he’s only allowed to do this for fifteen seconds, it doesn’t last long and that’s to Clark’s relief. Not only did he find the whole thing unsanitary, but it was also surprisingly erotic to feel Bruce’s tongue lapping at his foot and between his toes. Bruce shoves the dice into his hands. “Roll.”

This time when Clark rolls, he ends up with kiss face for fifteen seconds. With a blush, he leans in slowly and plants a soft kiss on Bruce’s forehead and then works his way around the plains of Bruce’s face. Bruce on the other hand has gone completely stiff. “It’s okay,” Clark whispers but it doesn’t seem to help and it’s almost as if he’s kissing a statue for fifteen seconds instead of the billionaire.

On Bruce’s roll he gets suck ear and this time it’s for a full sixty seconds. Clark blushes as Bruce scoots closer to him and sucks his earlobe into his mouth. Clark has to hold back a groan, shifting to try and hide the growing problem in his pants. Pajama bottoms aren’t exactly the best thing to hide an erection. Clark can only imagine what Bruce would think if he saw just how turned on Clark is becoming. “Kent,” Bruce whispers as he licks at his ear. “Roll the dice again.”

Clark does, trying to focus on the little cubes instead of what Bruce’s mouth is doing. “I got… I got, um, suck-” Bruce hums in approval. “Suck thigh for thirty seconds.”

Bruce pulls back, one eyebrow raised. “Thigh?”

Clark swallows. “Yeah.”

Bruce sighs almost inaudibly and then lies down on the bed. “Go ahead Kansas.”

Clark crawls in between Bruce’s legs and pushes the towel up slightly but not removing it. He sucks on Bruce’s thigh and Bruce squirms a little under him. When he looks up, he can see the towel is tented slightly, Bruce already being half hard. At seeing this, Clark becomes a bit daring and makes his way up Bruce’s leg until he’s at the point on his thigh in which he can’t go any further without exposing Bruce’s penis.

Bruce scrambles for the dice as Clark licks and sucks, adding in a few nips here and there. He rolls them and says, “Blow-” Clark really likes the sight of Bruce’s dick getting harder under the towel. “Wild-” He wants to push the towel up more, take Bruce into his mouth, and show him just how ‘equal opportunity’ hayseeds can really get. “Only fifteen seconds?” Clark feels Bruce push at him in order to turn him over and so he allows it. “Fuck that.” He then yanks Clark’s pajama bottoms down along with his boxers, and takes Clark’s erection into his mouth, all in one fluid motion.

Clark moans loud as he is swallowed by Bruce’s mouth, feeling how hot and wet he is. “Oh gosh, Mister Wayne!”

Bruce pulls off him and smiles at him devilishly. “Call me Bruce.” And then he’s back to sucking down Clark’s cock with a loud slurp.

“Then… oh gosh… then call me Clark. Please call me Clark.”

Bruce, once again, pulls off of Clark and crawls up his body to whisper in his ear. “As you wish, _Clark_.”

Clark can’t hold back the moan and pushes Bruce’s shoulders so he can return to his erection. Bruce, as he laps at his taut flesh, pulls Clark’s pants and underwear the rest of the way off and then discards his own towel. Clark takes his own pajama top off so that both are now naked. Clark starts palming around, looking for the dice. “Where… where are the dice?”

“Do we really still need those?”

Finding them, Clark rolls. “Yes.” Clark pulls Bruce up so his face is above his. “Because now mine says kiss wild with a wild time.” He leans up and presses his mouth to Bruce’s and the kiss turns immediately heated with tongues and teeth. Bruce is thrusting his hips against Clark’s thigh and so Clark returns the favor, thrusting his against Bruce’s thigh that is shoved between his legs. They both moan and Clark quickly turns them over again, leaving Bruce’s mouth to suck and kiss at his neck. “I think… I think we can forget about the dice now.”

“Yeah,” Bruce says breathlessly, pulling Clark up by the hair in order to kiss his lips again. They don’t need the dice to tell them how long to kiss each other or where to kiss and nip, to suck and lick. They don’t need the dice to tell them when to move on either. “There’s… oh God Clark,” Bruce moans as Clark continues to palm at his dick. “There’s lube in my bag.”

Clark gets up quickly, careful to not use his super speed, and then gets back in the bed, spreading some of the lube onto his fingers. He hooks one of Bruce’s legs over his shoulder and gently presses one finger into him. He adds more fingers when he feels like Bruce can handle them and then withdraws them in order to slick up his cock. He then lines himself up, Bruce’s other leg over his shoulder now. “Are you ready?”

“Just do it.”

Clark pushes in gently but once Bruce growls and urges him on, he thrusts in swiftly to the hilt. He gives the man a few seconds to adjust before he’s rolling his hips, thrusting into Bruce’s hot, tight body. “Gosh you feel so good, Bruce,” he moans.

“Just go faster you fucking-”

“If you call me an insulting name then I’m stopping.” Bruce shuts his mouth tightly and Clark thrusts into him hard in order to earn himself a gasp. “At this moment Bruce, we are not going to insult each other, we are not going to hate each other, we are not going to be angry with each other. We are just going to be two men enjoying each other’s bodies.”

Bruce’s eyes are half lidded and the two of them are sweating and breathing heavily. “Fine, Clark. You win this round.”

Clark’s mouth spreads into a wide, happy, triumphant smile. “So I guess we figured out how to decide who wins the game.”

“Oh shut up and fuck me,” Bruce goads and so Clark does, kissing him noisily and sloppily.

When they get closer to their climax, Clark realizes something. “Bruce, Bruce, I forgot to put on a condom.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should care. I could be diseased.”

“God, then just don’t cum inside me.”

“But… gosh, but you feel so good… want to.”

Bruce sighs despite his panting. “Fine, do you have a disease?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine. Stop complaining. God, you’re so annoying.”

“You are even more annoying.”

“Shut the fuck up would you?”

“Why don’t you.”

Bruce groans in annoyance and Clark decides to punish him — it’s not really a punishment — by giving a sharp, hard thrust that makes Bruce gasp again. “So fucking annoying,” Bruce breathes against his neck, arms wrapping around Clark’s shoulders tightly. “Fucking annoying farm boy.”

Clark chuckles, listening to his whispered complaining as he continues to thrust. Soon, Bruce is shuddering underneath him and is cumming all over his stomach and then Clark follows suit, cumming inside Bruce as he was instructed. They both moan low and long, allowing the feeling of euphoria to wash over them. When it dissipates, Clark pulls out of Bruce gently and then gets up to get a wash cloth.

He wets it and then comes back to clean Bruce up, wiping at his abdomen and between his legs lightly. “You’re not going to tell me where these scars came from?”

“Nope.”

“And I suppose you won’t tell me what your nightmare was about?”

There’s a long pause in which Bruce stares at him and Clark doesn’t meet his eyes, focusing on his strokes on Bruce’s body. “You know?”

“I heard. It… kind of woke me up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Clark throws the washcloth where his clothes have been dumped and crawls up beside Bruce, running his hand over toned muscle and soft nipples. “Do you not want to talk about it?”

Bruce is staring up at the ceiling but he is allowing Clark to touch him so Clark figures it’s a win. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He rubs one of Bruce’s pectorals. “But you know Bruce, I’m someone on the outside of your life. Someone you might not even see again after this cruise is done. So if you want to talk about it, just because of the fact that I’m a stranger, then… then I’m okay with that. I’ll listen and I won’t judge you or anything.”

Bruce rolls his head to the side, looks at Clark, and after a few seconds of silence he says, “Thank you Clark. I’ll keep that in mind.” He then turns over so his back is facing Clark and Clark makes to get up. “Clark.” Clark stops, halfway off the bed. “You can sleep in the bed with me if you want.”

Smiling softly, Clark lies back down next to Bruce. Clark hesitates, then scoots a bit closer to him, pulling the man into his arms and spooning him from behind. He kisses the back of Bruce’s neck and hears the man sigh in contentment. It’s not long after that that Bruce ends up drifting back to sleep.

Maybe Clark had Bruce all wrong. Maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all. Maybe Clark wouldn’t mind seeing him again and not being that stranger Clark was talking about. Maybe… maybe Clark wouldn’t mind being friends with Bruce, being more.

Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did use an online sex dice roller thing. It came up with some pretty _interesting_ combinations.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story!
> 
> And Yamada, I hope you especially enjoyed it. <3
> 
> Thank you!!


End file.
